Letters
by IaMcHrIsSi
Summary: If you are an assassin, you know certain things. Like the fact that you can die any moment. So, in a secret locker, there are two letters. One from Clint and one from Natasha.


**AN: I only corrected language and grammar, plot is the same =)**

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When you are an assassin, there are a few things you know: You have a target sign on your back 24/7, you will (most probably) never live in a relationship, all people you care about are in danger because of you and of course you could be killed any moment. All reasons why 'assassin' leads the inofficial hitlist of jobs with the most burn-outs.

Most people don't survive this job, physically and/or emotionally. There are in fact really few assassins who can still feel things like friendship or love.

Even though nobody (apart from Coulson because he's their handler and Pepper because, well, she knows everything) knows, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff belong to this minority.

So it comes that, for years now, in a secret locker in his nightstand, Coulson has two letters. One from Clint for Natasha and one from Natasha for Clint, both with the bid to be passed on to the receicer in case the author dies. This are the two letters:

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Dear Tasha,

You read this, what means I'm dead. And I know it wasn't your fault, whatever you may think. It's not your fault. Listen, not your fault. I know you well enough to know that. Probably I did something entirely stupid. I hope you are alright and I killed nobody with my stupidity. If I did, I'm really sorry.

You probably have this get-to-the-point-Barton-look on your face, so I will do exactly this.

Truth is, I write this letter because I want you to know some things: From the moment I first saw you, you intrigued me. Your were (and are) a mystery, but at the same time I see so much of myself in you. We are two broken soules searching for light.

As the years went on, my look on you changed a bit. I couldn't name it. You were... more. It took that grandious shitstorm that was Budapest for me to realize it: You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Better than the circus, better than SHIELD, hell, even better than Coulson.

I love you, Tasha. I know you always say love is for children, but I'm dead, so just accept my love, okay? I love you. As long as you are alright, my world is alright. Don't give up. Promise me that: Don't give up. Fight. You have a life, live it!

Don't be too sad. I had a damn good time with you.

Forever (and a bit longer) yours,

Clint

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Dear Clint,

If you read this I am dead. I gave this letter to Coulson, because I know it will reach you this way.

First of all, thank you. Not only for sparing my life that night in Russia, but for saving me in every way possible. Before you, I lurked around in the shadows, I didn't feel, I didn't even want to feel, I didn't live.

You are my light, Clint, the one I can cling to when the shadows are coming.

You taught me to feel again.

Without you, I would have given up long ago. But you made life worth living again. And for that, I can't thank you enough.

And you are even more than that: You are the first, last, and only man I ever loved. I always say love is for children and makes us weak, it's what I've been taught, but with you and for you I want to be a child again and when you are around I'm not afraid of being weak.

I write you this letter because I will probably never be able to say those words, but I want you to know how I feel and it's easier to write it. I love you, Clint Barton. I love you.

Yours,

Tasha

PS: If you follow me here, I will hunt you through all seven hells (or whereever I am now) and torture you till you regret it.

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After the battle of New York, after Phil Coulsons funeral, the letters disappeared for a few weeks. But after the Avengers moved into Stark tower, somehow both ended up in a locker in Peppers office. Sometimes she looks at it and sighs. It would be so much easier if they just talked to each other.

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**AN: Just a short oneshot. Hope you enjoyed it. Tell me what you think!**


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